The long break

And the correspondingly long post

October - December 2024

I want to share some personal things that happened since the last post, mainly so you can see how fraught with psychological peril - and personal fulfillment - this process can be. At least for me. And if you’re a creative, maybe it’ll comfort you to know that you’re not alone in your struggles.

Somewhere in October 2024 I realized I hadn’t touched Giant Void’s footage in weeks. I hadn’t even opened the editing project. Earlier that month I was thrilled at how easily I put together a rough teaser, and suddenly I just stopped. As our editor Peder Morgenthaler toiled away at tagging, organizing and stringing together an assembly cut of the film, I found myself wondering why I was so hesitant to dive into editing.

Having taken the holiday period to finally watch every frame of the twenty-five hours of footage we shot, I think I have some answers.

First, I burned out. Other than film school, I’ve spent the past fifteen years working corporate jobs to help create a stable environment for our creativity, Megan’s and mine. I’ve spent every free moment between then and now working on or thinking about film. And now I made my dream project with my dream team. A few cast members lovingly warned me the postpartum might get intense, but it still snuck up and hit hard. I found myself in a state of constant yearning to return to set.

Second, I was a little scared. I’ve made quite a few short films and music videos, enough to establish a strong, unique voice. But nothing at this scale. Cue unproductive thinking: Did I get everything I needed? Did I miss something, misdirect someone, or fall short on a critical story beat? An occasional cursory glance at the footage sowed all kinds of doubts I wasn’t prepared to handle.

As in most cases, it helped to look at things as they really are - not as I assumed them to be. So between Christmas and New Year’s I spent every day pouring over the footage we shot in August. I definitely saw problems. There always are, in any production with any budget, and it’s one of many reasons why editing is so important. But mostly what I saw were the makings of an excellent film.

Thus the slump ended as I finished watching the footage, almost exactly at midnight on December 31, 2024.

All photos by Justin Kane.

Plans for early 2025

During my review of the footage I was re-acquainted with the multiple layers we’ll be adding to Giant Void: so many computer screens, user interfaces, dream sequences, memories … basically the entire subjective world of the protagonist. I think this is where the film is really going grow beyond a traditional narrative and become something unique. So 2025 is about creating those layers and weaving them into our footage from August.

In pre-production we planned to do a pick-up shoot on a beach after principal photography. Over the holidays we finalized plans do this pick-up on the Olympic Peninsula, and while we’re in the area, grab some scenes on the Seattle light rail. I’m beyond excited about this. I drafted the Giant Void’s first outlines while commuting to work on the same light rail line we’ll use for filming. The beauty of the Pacific Northwest inspired this story, and I love that it now has an official role in the film.

In the meantime we’re working hard on the first phase of the edit - the assembly cut. This is a simple, sequential pass at the footage, laid out in script order. This will help Peder and I identify problems and come up with initial ideas for the next phase of the edit - the rough cut.

Kudos to our PA’s

We had seven PA’s (production assistants - the entry-level role for film crews) on the Giant Void set: Claudia Cutler, Pierce Kimbrough, Abbie Menard, Maddie Miller, Dmitri Scal, Dani Toubin, and Edmund Tyler. All students from University of Denver. All hard, conscientious workers. We couldn’t have done it without them, and to top it off they made this fantastic film about their experience on set.

Wrapping up

I’ll conclude with some final thoughts on why I do this and why I’ve stuck with it for so long. Simply put, I don’t have a choice. Cinema is a medium that cuts directly into our dreaming mind and temporarily convinces us of another reality. If done properly, a thoughtful film can show us what it feels like to be another human being. That’s why I’m addicted.

I also think cinema, along with other long form media, is vital to our culture. We live in a time where the “other” - anyone outside our immediate family, tribe, race, culture, creed, politics - feels like a continual threat to our values and way of life. It shouldn’t surprise us that we also live in a time where cinema has declined under the weight of social media. Out-of-context soundbites and 30-second videos have outpaced the long read or the trip to the theater to watch meaningful films like Perfect Days and Anora. Instead, algorithms serve us fear, close our minds, and generate near-infinite ad revenue for the largest corporations in history. Unsurprisingly and inevitably, we’re losing sight of each other, and we’re not allowing for the sea of contradictions that make us human.

Sometimes a thoughtful movie feels like an antidote to all this poison.

Cinema engages me with the world, and to my great enrichment, with other people. It surprises me, challenges my assumptions, and helps me appreciate this short life just a little more. The work of making a film - and the act of watching a film - always carries that power. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let that go.

If you have the time, I think this (long form!) video essay puts it quite well.

Finally, I wanted to highlight my favorite album of 2024, Kelly Moran’s Moves in the Field. Perfect winter listening.

Talk soon.